


Looking Forward to It

by LukeVonCastiel



Category: Guild Wars, Guild Wars 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, M/M, Waiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-29
Updated: 2015-01-29
Packaged: 2018-03-09 13:18:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3251150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LukeVonCastiel/pseuds/LukeVonCastiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trahearne waits for Riannoc to arrive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Looking Forward to It

Trahearne flicked through his book, pages flipping past. The words before him meant little; black symbols amidst diagrams of flora. He knew most of them, for he had read the book before. A comforting thing, those words. Reaffirming his notes and studies. But today it brought him little comfort, and his concentration wavered. Behind him water bubbled, the hum of the kettle only adding to his unease rather than soothing it.  
  
His eyes glanced toward the small clock on tabletop. _8:30pm_. He slipped a hand in his pocket and tugged out his phone. The screen flashed on. _8:40pm_. It was set ten minutes fast, as he preferred it. Ten minutes could change everything in the right hands.  
  
_'But it wouldn't make you any less late,'_ he thought, tapping the screen a few times. His contact list came up; a small thing, with few names. _'Should update Caithe's number…'_ He passed by her details. They were outdated, a result of her having another fallout with Faolain.  
  
He reached the number he wanted. Pulling up the text screen, he typed in a few words, read them over, then sighed and slipt his phone back into his pocket. _‘He’s only half an hour late; his flight probably got delayed.’_  
  
But even as he thought it he knew he was wrong. Riannoc was never late, and when he was he always sent a message. Usually accompanied by several sad emotes and ridiculous flower sprites. Sometimes he sent a picture, with a toothy smile or a melodramatic pout. It helped, reassured Trahearne that he was alright.  
  
Morbid images filled his mind. Of an aircraft shattered, wings broken and corpses littered throughout the wreckage. Sirens and screaming and smoke. With a sudden turning in his stomach, Trahearne pulled out his phone again, opened up the text message screen, and typed a new message.  
  
_'Are you alright?'_  
  
It as only after his finger had hit the send button that he realised. ‘You’re not allowed to text on planes.’  
  
"Ugh." Trahearne let his face fall. His book wasn’t particularly comfortable, the worn leather of the cover not made for a sylvari to rest their head upon. It certainly wasn’t as comfortable as a bed, even one lacking Riannoc.  
  
_'Is there anything as comfortable as a bed with Riannoc?'_  
  
"Hmm." There wasn’t. At least not in his experience. His experience, however, was tailored more toward discovering all the uncomfortable and unpleasant things in Tyria. Perhaps there was something out there that felt warmer and safer than lying beside him, blankets tucked around them as Trahearne lay half upon his lover, head nestled beneath his chin.  
  
He started when he heard a jingle; the bright clang of metal on metal. Keys. His heart hammered in his chest as he leapt from his seat, nearly tripping over his pants. Sleeping pants. Why had he chosen to wear sleeping pants? _'I could've worn something nicer!'_  
  
"Thorns!" He exclaimed as he nearly fell over the sofa, eyes locked on the door as it swung open. Standing there, lips parted in a smile with his keys in one hand and a bright bouquet of flowers, was Riannoc. His hair was a little longer, leaves grown in his time away, and his shoulders were a touch broader, but it was him.  
  
"Sorry I’m late," Riannoc said, voice deep and warm. "Had a problem with the taxi, and then I saw these," he waved the flowers slightly, "and thought I might as well pick them. As an apology." He paused for a moment. "And I managed to drop my phone in a gutter. It’s been a rough trip." His smile grew. "But all the trouble in the world is worth this."  
  
"This?" Trahearne asked.  
  
"Seeing you," Riannoc replied. Trahearne flushed, lips twitching up into a grin as Riannoc pocketed his keys and collected his suitcase, stepping inside and shutting the door. Then he dumped it all on the floor, bar the flowers, and swept Trahearne up.  
  
"I missed you love," he murmured. Trahearne wrapped his arms around him tightly, forehead against forehead.  
  
"So did I," he whispered. "I’m glad you’re here." He leant forward, his lips meeting Riannoc’s own. The kiss was short and chaste, though by the night’s end Trahearne did not doubt there would be many other kisses shared between the two of them.  
  
_'I look forward to it,'_ he thought, burying his head in the crook of Riannoc’s neck and smiling. 


End file.
